


Let's Twist Again

by yezh (kirpee)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Homophobia, M/M, PoC character, Racism, discussions of both homophobia and racsim, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:06:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirpee/pseuds/yezh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The year is 1961 and Jean wonders if he'll ever be able to hold his boyfriend's hand in public."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Twist Again

**Author's Note:**

> Based on "Let's Twist Again" by Chubby Checker. Check it out. 
> 
> I really hope that I've portrayed the 1960s in an okay way. I'm a little nervous about posting this piece.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The year is 1961 and Jean wonders if he'll ever be able to hold his boyfriend's hand in public.

It seems like an impossibility. Two boys aren't supposed to do that. They're supposed to slap each other on the back after a good play on the field. They're supposed to urge each other on when they're close to sealing the deal. They're supposed to want to kiss girls.

But Jean doesn't want to kiss girls and that's wrong. He keeps his eyes down in the locker room because he'll get hit if he's caught looking. He's wrong.

But when he's with Marco, it all feels right. Like their hands, slotted together like they were sculpted to fit each other. Even their skin is a complement, Jean's pale pale skin a stark contrast with Marco's dark skin. Their bodies feel the same way. Marco is hard and lean, muscles working beneath his skin from growing up rough and tumble. His dark skin still managing to freckle in all types of sun.

Jean is softer. He's got arms meant for baseball and he plays with a ll the fervor he can muster. He takes all he can, all the feelings of wrong wrong wrong, and puts them into baseball.

He plays until he's spent and all he can think of is Marco, and how nice it'll be when he kisses him.

But he can't do that in public. Not when Marco isn't white and a boy.

It's 1961 and Jean wonders if his boyfriend will be treated the same as he is. He wonders it a lot, especially when he's nestled into the half circle of Marco's body and Marco's pressing lazy, satiated kisses onto Jean's skin. Jean's heart feels so full he wonders what he did to deserve this boy, and he almost wants to cry because no one else thinks this boy is worthy of equal treatment just because of the color of his skin.

And now Marco is standing in front of the record player, his pants hugging his legs so well that Jean's mouth is almost watering he looks so good. Jean is sitting on the bed and he has a stunning view. But he's still thinking about how the world doesn't deserve this boy and wanting so badly to hold his hand in the hallways. 

Marco sets the needle down and there's crackling static before Chubby Checker yells, "Come on everybody, clap your hands!"

Marco taps his foot in time with the beat for a few seconds before turning to face Jean, giant goofy smile on his face. Jean's mouth tries to curl in an imitation of Marco's smile but it doesn't come.

"Let's twist again like we did last summer," Marco sings along with the record. He offers his hands to Jean, an invitation to dance. Jean is hesitant. "Let's twist again like we did last year," Marco sings again, urging Jean with a come hither type of motion.

Jean accepts Marco's invitation. Marco pulls him into his chest, one hand wrapping around Jean's waist, the other holding his hand. "Do you remember when things were really hummin'?" Marco sings lowly into Jean's ear. His voice is deep and beautiful and Jean suppresses a small shiver. "Let's twist agin. Twister time is here." And then Marco spins Jean and they're dancing.

Marco twists in a way that should be sinful, the way he moves his hips Elvis Presley would be jealous. Jean watches transfixed until Marco pulls him in again.

"I love you," he whispers in Jean's ear, holding him close. The words taste new even though they've been said so many times before. "I love you."

Jean slides his arms around Marco's waist, head in the crook of Marco's neck, just breathing for a moment. He doesn't know how he  _deserves_ this boy.

"I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit appreciated.


End file.
